


The Night of the Dubious Duty

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Wild Wild West (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, M/M, Pre-Slash, semi-prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:04:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In better spirits than he'd been when he got there, Artemus turned and wished he hadn't heard anything at all about a military delegation.  Of all the goddamn luck. James West... newly promoted from the looks of the snappy sharp cut to his dress uniform. Not that he had anything against James, quite the opposite in fact, but he didn't need the distraction and James distracted him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night of the Dubious Duty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



William Campbell was an American diplomat posted in Ottawa and a patron of the fine arts, embroiled in a range of less than savory activities. The most important of those activities was his close relationship with the French envoy Edouard Charbonneau, which had drawn enough attention from back home that had made attending his lavish soiree mandatory. It had also made his detour from an excellent run of Orpheus and Eurydice, and have to replace another company’s drunkard lack wit Puck.

He could make himself up into a type for anyone given enough motivation. Sometimes it was even a pleasant task, but mostly it was part of the job. He was meant to catch Campbell's eye and find out what he was up to, and what the French envoy had been involved in. So he was on sparkling form if he said so himself, hooking the man's interest.

Now he just needed the opportunity for it to work. Campbell seemed to have a decent enough personality, but it was a matter of *approaching* him. Artemus had seen him at a couple of showings of Midsummer Night's Dream, and while it was a good show it wasn't something Artemus would've gone to see more than once a month. Or year.

Either he was using the performances as a cover to meet people or he was interested in something. Possibly he was enamored of someone in the cast or perhaps his flirtatious performances had lured him in.

If it was the latter, Artemus had every plan to use it against him in the line of his duty. 

A waiter nudged his elbow gently, holding out a tray of wine. It was good wine, too, for Ottawa, probably freshly sailed up the river, though the particular provenance was eluding Artemus. 

He took the glass, glancing around. He was spreading his charms around in an equal fashion to male and female. It was somewhat expected that an actor could be flamboyant and over the top. He just needed to attract the man's attention because his information confirmed he was attracted to men.

There was always a problem with sending in an agent of any kind to do that, though, because attracted to men didn't mean 'attracted to any men', never mind what Washington and the Colonels back home seemed inclined to believe. 

It wasn't hard to smile and put on a good show with the talk, though, meandering through the crowded hall in a natural way that took him closer to Mr. Campbell. And when he finally caught the man's eye, it was as good as done, from the way he broke away from his prior conversational partner.

"Artemus Gordon -- glad you could make it!"

"Mr. William Campbell I presume," he replied with a broad smile. "One of my fellow thespians pointed you out as a great patron of the arts. I'm always pleased to meet someone interested in my life's work."

He smiled, and reached out to clap Artemus's shoulder. "Believe me, the pleasure's all mine. I saw you perform back in Washington last year, and was rather amazed by how much work you did in becoming Puck. It's quite a transformation." And so was the transformation from trusted diplomat to suspected collaborator with a sometimes supporting nation.

"Ah well you are too kind to note any of my meager skill," he said modestly. "Although, it is said that my Prince Hal was rousing. Puck is of a decidedly more...frivolous cast." He used the excuse to apparently innocently touch the other mans arm, just to sound him out.

Nothing more than that.

"Still, there's room in the world for frivolity." He cut his eyes at Artemus, lowering his eye lids just enough, while his eyebrows went up to seem inviting. He had pale blue eyes, and relatively normal brown hair that was graying a touch at the edges. Distinguished grey. For all the world, it didn't seem like face of someone who was planning to become a traitor. "Why don't you join me at the dinner? I'm sure we can find plenty to talk about."

"I would be honored of course," Artemus answered making sure to give his smile a little extra something to hint he was excited at the thought. "Travelling on the road...can lead to missing out on the finer things in life." He looked down a little and then up through his lashes at the slightly taller man. No, he was definitely interested in his body' now what he had to do was to get him interested in his conversation too. "Good conversation can be somewhat lacking."

Yes, Campbell thought of himself as a man of culture.

Whether he was or not was dubious, but it ultimately didn't matter. All Artemus had to do was bite his tongue at the appropriate places, and he'd be set. 

Set for weeks of working Campbell over for information the old fashioned way. He took another sip of his wine, and halfway wished it was gin.

"It certainly can. How did you end up here in Ottawa?"

"I felt the urge to try something a little different," he said, and gave a rueful grin. "You know how it is, sometimes things can become a little familiar and ...oppressive." Let him think he had been running from someone. It at least implied he was available.

Campbell grinned, and patted at his shoulder again. "Oh, I do understand that. I'd had a bit of a rough run back in Washington, so when the posting came up, I jumped on it. I'm glad I did -- there's quite a bit going on up here."

He laughed a little. "Oh I do hope so. They tried to tell I would be disappearing into a cultural abyss if I came this way." He shifted just a little into the pat rather than away. "People can be so fickle sometimes."

Fickle, and easy to play as a violin. Mr. Campbell was staring at him quite overtly, and it didn't take much effort for Artie to put up a little response before he cut his eyes sideways. Easy on the eyes certainly helped, but so did accurately reminding them both that they were in public. And Campbell caught on.

"That's unfortunate. Please, enjoy the drinks, and I'll see you at dinner afterwards? I'm afraid there's a military delegation I need to greet as well."

"Of course. It's been a pleasure making your acquaintance Mr. Campbell," he said, politely wondering what military delegation would be up in this neck of the woods. "I look forward to continuing our conversation."

"Absolutely." Now he'd just have to track the man through the crowds, keep making eye contact. Really draw it out in a way he couldn't politely do with a woman target.

In better spirits than he'd been when he got there, he turned and wished he hadn't heard anything at all about a military delegation. Of all the goddamn luck. James West...newly promoted from the looks of the snappy sharp cut to his dress uniform. Not that he had anything against James, quite the opposite in fact, but he didn't need the distraction and James distracted him.

He looked away before he was noticed, he hoped, heading towards the circulating waiter for another glass of wine. It wasn't going to get him drunk, but oh, he could wish. He could always draw out the allure and make a quick excuse and a quicker get-away.

It might be too much to expect he could get away before he had been spotted by Jim. He didn't miss anything in terms of details, but he was a trifle naive about the more sordid ways of obtaining information. Artemus was half convinced that James assumed when he came back with information sometimes he had just plucked it out of thin air.

He tried to drift out of the centre of things, but he had gone to pains to dress in an unmissable way.

Artie took a swig of his wine, and pulled a lovely enough young lady into conversation, perhaps a little abruptly. But it worked well enough, asking her about the local culture and local this and local that, because it was all useful to know and it bought him a casual sort of reason to not be near Jim. Still, he had to wander back to see about Campbell, and at some point...

Someone clearing his throat behind him made him nearly wince because he knew that sound very clearly. "Well hello...Captain," he said. "What an unexpected pleasure."

There were words on the tip of his tongue and none of them were pleasant. None of them were coming out, which was a small miracle. "Artemus." It was a warm greeting, a tiny bit sardonic as he reached to shake Artemus's hand. "I thought you were in Chicago?"

"Well, you know me...I get around," Artemus replied unable to stop a smile as he shook his hand. "They seek me here, they seek me there..."

Jim snorted, letting go of Artemus' hand. "I can tell you've had a couple of glasses of the wine, then. How've you been?"

"Well enough," he said by way of reply. Jim needed to pick up on things quicker. It wasn't like he could go over the sordid details in public. "And you? Up here for business or pleasure?"

"Business." He lifted his eyebrows at Artemus, looking over towards Campbell. "How about we talk about this later? Have you met the head of the American Envoy?"

"Oh yes. I have a dinner invitation with him later," Artemus replied. "I'll catch up with you...tomorrow." Not tonight because there was a strong possibility that tonight he might be working pretty damn hard.

Jim tilted his head a little, eyes narrowing slightly. Never mind about Jim needing to pick up on things quicker. He was too damn quick to begin with, and he wasn't going to let it drop. "I'm at the Clifton. Look me up when you get a chance."

"I'll do that," Artie promised and then moved in towards Campbell as dinner was about to be served. He hoped Jim wasn't invited to dinner because he was going to have to flirt like hell and most likely leave with the guy.

There was nothing more uncomfortable than doing that with someone he *liked* working with watching. 

Jim didn't move, which gave him a thread of hope, while he arrowed in towards Campbell. He got a welcoming enough wave for his trouble. There was no question now that he was going to be leaving with the man.

* * *

Jim was privileged enough to be invited to the exclusive dinner, mainly he suspected due to his connections to General Grant. It suited his purpose but what he hadn't banked on was Artemus being there.

Apparently Artemus *had* met the diplomat, and was seated to one side of him at the table with a comfortable casualness that didn't quite seem right to Jim. He just couldn't put a finger on what was off. There was a lot of smiling going on, and though Campbell was witty enough, Jim was sure that Artie was forcing some of that laughter. He didn't understand the constant checking gazes either. He'd done that with Artemus when they had worked together but this was with a person of interest.

There had been a sudden influx of guns going *into* Ottawa, but once they reached the port they seemed to melt into nothingness. Rumors pointed to Campbell, but nothing substantial. Jim was there under the guise of liaising with the local military, but talking with the American envoy was normal and almost the polite thing to do.

It didn't explain at all why Artie was there. From what he knew from working with Artemus, he enjoyed diplomatic affairs about as much as he enjoyed being shot at -- barring terribly exceptional food.

The food was fine but not exceptional. He also noticed that Artemus seemed to be drinking more than he actually drank and became progressively more tactile and friendly to the people around him and that Campbell had a hungry smile that put the hairs on the back of his neck up.

Jim tended to associate smiles like that with bank robbers. Crazy people who were planning world domination. Deposed dictators who were trying to pull a deal off. 

"Mr. West, you've been awfully quiet all night. Is the dinner to your liking?"

"It's fine." He leaned back in his chair a little, watching Campbell and seeing Artie in his periphery. "It was a long ride up here and it's good to rest."

"Then I would certainly recommend seeing A Midsummer's Night dream while you are here," he replied. "Mr. Gordon here is a highly amusing Puck. Have you met before?"

He usually wondered what the best answer to that question was. That he knew him quite well? That they'd worked together frequently and well? That Gordon was maddeningly intelligent and sharp-witted, and there was no good reason for him to be in Ottawa. "Captain Gordon joined my cavalry unit after the battle of Shiloh. It's always good to see you again, Artemus."

"You too James," Artemus replied easily. "Of course our young Lieutenant was being suitably heroic - I believe the military suits you. I of course left to pursue my calling as soon as I could get away from the battlefield with good grace, I don't mind admitting it."

Jim took a sip of his own wine, just enough to dampen his tongue. "You always kept campfire spirits high. Maybe I'll look up your show sometime before I leave." Give the illusion that they weren't too familiar with each other, just in case Artemus was there working an angle as well. It was possible. Hopefully he would find that out tomorrow. Something was definitely going on but he wasn't sure what.

"Oh you shouldn't miss it," Campbell encouraged him. "It is one of Shakespeare's finest comedies."

"Yes, I do enjoy playing my current role," Artemus said refilling his glass. "I get to be so delightfully anarchic."

“What, running around, causing trouble?” That was his fifth glass at the table so far – not counting whatever he’d drunk before dinner. Jim was half inclined to intervene just because there was a point where drink overtook any bravado and self-assurance that a man could still accomplish the mission. “I don’t know, are you sure that’s a part?”

"Obviously there are some who might disagree," Artie said and laughed uproariously as if he had made the joke.

Jim smirked a little, trying to not show any disbelief as he looked at Campbell, who was looking... at Artie. Huh. "Clearly, if they wrote the part. So, Mr. Campbell, sir -- how's the trade been up this way?"

"Well enough Captain West," he replied. "We have some promising regular routes established into Canada now which I believe are very valuable."

"Good. I'll be talking with the local forces about those missing shipments, and wanted to see if you had any additional concerns you want voiced. Seeing as they'll be listening." Jim took another tiny sip, and ate a bit of the vegetable.

"Oh please," Artemus gestured dismissively. "Surely this is not a time for such dull concerns. I 'm any missing shipments were merely...delayed."

"That's possible, but it's always best to see something through and be sure. And as our Canadian counterparts so graciously asked..." He shrugged his shoulders. "Here I am."

"We can rest safe in our beds," Artemus said with a peculiar emphasis on the word bed. "Now that the military is here."

Jim watched Campbell snort, and nod. "Indeed. Your presence here will put a great many bizarre rumors to rest, I'm sure."

"I'm flattered." Jim raised his glass in a half a toast gesture. "And appreciate your hospitality."

"Oo now, bizarre rumors, that seems so much more intriguing than boring missing shipments," Artie said as if intrigued. "Is it a mystery worthy of Willkie Collins perhaps?"

It took Jim a moment, and he smirked, shaking his head. "Can't rightfully say it would be. There's arms shipments arriving up the river and never being seen again. It's not very spooky."

"Oh surely...surely there must be something more too it," Artie said in disappointment. "I was hoping for something a little more exciting. Ghostly apparitions for example or mysterious native rituals. William, surely there must be something a little more...spicy. "

"Well, it could be Indian tribes stealing them," he offered very reasonably. "But no, that's not terribly exciting, either."

"Could be someone stocking up to foment a rebellion against the government up here," Jim also suggested, as if he were playing along with Artie's games.

"Bah," Artie waved a hand. "A typical military answer. No… no, we need... drama, excitement, intrigue, possibly a beautiful femme fatale."

Campbell laughed at that as if Artie had said something hilarious. Jim wasn’t quite following but it felt like he was left out of a joke. Better to drink his wine and shake his head as if he were a humorless soldier. Artie was up to something, and Jim had no damn idea what it was. He’d have to find him the next day, or break away and follow him after he left the dinner.

Right now, how Artie was playing this was a mystery to him.

* * *

If nothing else, Campbell was fast. 

Fast and hot and heavy and he certainly was comfortable with not just the concept of sodomy, but the acts that went with it. Artemus had gotten three steps into the man’s quarters, and his jacket had ended up on the floor' another two steps, and he was toe-ing off shoes and taking his shirt off while Campbell worked hard to get his pants off. Campbell had left suck marks on his chest, wrapped his hand tightly around Artemus’s cock, and stroked him while Artemus had worked tried to return the favour of undressing him. 

He’d hardly had a chance to come down the man’s throat before he was being goaded to his hands and knees, and being pushed into a little harshly. There was slick involved somewhere in there, but Artemus was mostly glad that he’d drank enough to not care. 

He moved with him, making the right noises, responding with over enthusiasm and as if it was the best fuck he'd ever had. The technique left something to be desired and he was going to feel it but it was a means to an end and someone like James West would never do this to his constant regret.

Still, it was decent. Decent in that he hadn't yet figured out how to bugger himself in any satisfying way, and he'd had worse lays. Though if he were to rate Campbell, he'd have to put the man somewhere on the bottom twenty. All thrusting and no finesse, but enough power to make Artemus go down to his shoulders, gasping.

There could be a pleasure in that in the right circumstances. There was no conversation or slow sweetness but he could speak to him later. Fuck. He groaned at that, pushing back, bracing himself using a few tricks to get strangled moans out of Campbell who was enjoying himself immensely.

The important part wasn't getting the fellow once -- it was getting him repeatedly, getting into his circle of trust. It wasn't quick, but it was thorough, and very effective, which he reminded himself when he felt the man's hands clutching death-hot hard at his hips while he fucked him with a drunken sort of urgency.

You didn't push too hard on the first time out. Jim West was always up for the quick reveal and sometimes it took longer than that. Damn he was going to have bruises there. He felt the pace increase, and yeah, classy no reach around. He was going to have to bring himself off to maintain the pretence that he found Campbell completely attractive. He has to turn to his own fantasies, draw them up and slot them in to the scenario. He was very adept at that.

Probably too adept at it. He needed to refill those fantasies every once in a while, too, and he hadn't gotten near enough of anything to help that along, but there were a few tried and true fantasies that had been real, once. Quiet in his tent with Sergeant Wilks, half-scared and smelling like a three day ride and copper-blood scent from the bullet that had clipped his scalp, desperate and not all pleasure but affirming. It had been desperately important to remember just then that most all of them were still alive.

It was easier to close his eyes and imagine those intense moments and the climax that had steamrollered him with the force of life snatched from the jaws of death. It pushed him over the edge soon enough, his bodies reaction of clenching hard no doubt making Campbell's last thrusts spectacular.

He wasn't sure, but he guessed it did the trick from the way Campbell groaned and leaned over him hard, nearly trying to flatten Artemus. "Oh, lord, I think you've killed me."

He managed a panting chuckle. "But what a way to go," he replied, swallowing. "Magnificent...I will be feeling that for some time William."

Only because he hadn't used enough lubrication. 

He felt it, too, when William pulled out, and shifted to lie beside him. "Good. I think I like that idea."

Mm, yes he'd been right about the man. Probably enjoyed the dominating aspect as much as anything. Well, he wouldn't go unprepared for their next liaison. There were ways to arrive ready for action. "It will certainly make it interesting to play my part feeling where you were inside me, outside me..." he purred making the lamplight show his eyes large and dark. 

It seemed to do the trick, the way that Campbell leaned over him to steal a kiss. "Then remember that tomorrow night while you're on stage. And if you want to come by afterwards..."

"As if I could refuse you," he flattered, making a point to stroke along his jaw line and look into his eyes as if he was besotted. "But I should go...especially with the military here. I don't want to risk you being seen in a compromising situation. It could jeopardize whatever you are doing."

Campbell snorted, rolling onto his back. "Boring diplomatic things. But if you must go..." And Artemus must. Fuck and run the first time, linger and loiter the second. Keep the mystery going long enough for the talking to be useful to him, even if he didn't want to get out of bed sore and sticky.

"I should have more time tomorrow if are not courting the military and doing that boring diplomatic stuff again," he said with a lascivious smile as he pulled on his shirt and pants. "We can...take out time."

Campbell leaned up on his elbows, an easy grin on his mouth as he watched Artemus. "I look forward to that. I'm sure my schedule will be clear."

"I feel the urge to leave dramatically through the window," Artemus said pulling on his boots. "I bid you farewell...and thank you for a most...rewarding evening."

Campbell laughed again, and smiled as he watched Artemus. "The window? Really?"

"Permit me my foibles...besides if I am seen I can pretend I drunkenly picked the wrong window to woo my fair mistress under," he said slyly. It wasn't a difficult drop. 

Campbell seemed impressed, still shaking his head. "By all means. Thank you for coming." 

Which was his cue to turn, boots mostly on by then, and let himself out through the window. It wasn't a long drop, just two floors, though he'd turned his ankle making shorter jumps in more hurried circumstances.

The impact with the ground still made him grunt, and he had to pull himself up dusting off his pants. Time to get back and indulge in a damn good bath. It was a ridiculous luxury but it was something he felt he had to do after this sort of thing.

Otherwise he'd be in a foul mood the next day, because that had been, all in all, ridiculous. If he and the Frenchman were carrying on an affair as well, it was completely for mercantile reasons. In fact, Artemus was half-sorry for the French diplomat if it were so.

He pretended to be just a little drunk for the benefit of anyone watching him and then made it back to his lodgings. Bath it was. He moved a bit stiffly up the stairs.

But he heard footfalls coming up the stairs, too. He turned, and couldn't see anyone, but he was one hundred percent sure that he'd heard something.

As he opened the door to his room, he lurked behind the door, gun drawn ready just in case he was right. Being paranoid had kept him alive.

And it wouldn't do him any harm, because he could hear the door being tested right off, a quiet turning of the knob before a light knock. "Artie?"

Jim. For God's sake, really? 

"West?" He cracked the door open. "Why Jim, I thought we were going to meet tomorrow."

"Artie, just let me in." He looked just like he had at dinner, cold appraising eyes and calm demeanor, but there was firmness to his voice as he stood there and looked back at Artie, apparently not minding the fact that he was talking through a door crack.

"Fine, come on in." He opened the door and gestured for him to enter. His bath would have to wait apparently.

He stepped inside, and closed and locked the door behind him, the movements intent. "What's going on with the diplomat?" Right to the point. Beautiful, beautifully blunt James West, never missed a chance to miss a chance.

"As yet I am not completely sure," he said. "Give me time though, and I will know."

Nothing. No reaction, not a flicker of thought across Jim's face. There were times where that was a godsend, and times where it drove him right up a wall. "I saw you jump out of his window."

"Yes, well, we were having a...discussion," he said carefully. How much had Jim seen? He had never had reason to discuss this sort of thing with him before and for all he knew Jim could be one of those who might see him as an abomination for all the fact he was sure Jim wasn't religious.

Still. He'd jumped out of the man's window for a reason, because there were plenty of places where that'd get a man killed. "About?"

"I was building bridges Jim," he said evasively. "We don't all get information dropped on us immediately. I need to win his trust."

Jim took a step towards him, lips parted slightly. "I want to know what you were doing."

Okay, that was strange. "I get the job done don't I?" Artemus said, resisting the urge to step backwards. "Really Jim, you'd be...bored with the details."

He watched Jim's jaw clench a little. "You get the job done, Artemus, but how'm I going to give you any support if I don't know what the hell you're doing."

Oh it was all about him. Of course it was. "Because you really don't WANT to know the details," he snapped back. He was tired, and sore and he never felt particularly good about himself after doing this. "And if you know the details I sure as hell won't be getting any support."

He took a step backwards, and Jim stayed his ground, so he turned around under the pretense of taking his tie off. It was haphazardly on in the first place, so taking it off didn't make things worse. "Aren't you usually the one who yells at me because I've run off to god doesn't know where?"

"Yes well," he pulled it off. "that's because you seem to be determined to die young," he said and tried a disarming smile.

Jim was giving him a disbelieving look. The disarming smile wasn't working. "I know we're not officially working together on this case, but we're both on the same case, aren't we? You've been up here longer. Let me help."

He laughed a little bitterly. "Believe me James, this particular angle is not one that you can help with and you definitely wouldn't want to." 

That was frustrating for Jim, and Artie could tell it was, but he wasn't going to back down and he wasn't going to give Jim anymore rope that he could use to hang him. 

"I saw what you were doing."

That was exactly what he didn't want to hear. It stilled him completely as he held his breath. "Oh really?" he said faintly. "Why don't you tell me what you think you saw me doing?"

Please let Jim be taking a shot in the dark. Please let Jim be *guessing*. "I." Jim's cheeks started to flare hot, and Artemus wanted to crawl under a table. Only there wasn't one handy. Just a dressing table, and as far as shelter went, there wasn't much. "I saw you in bed with him."

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and then winced at the pain. "Oh." He exhaled. "Well, I suppose it was a beautiful friendship while it lasted," Artemus said running his fingers through his hair. "Fine, then yes I was in bed with him. Uncle Sam likes to be versatile in how he gets agents to get information, James."

"Don't be melodramatic." The red on Jim's cheeks was starting to disappear under his shirt collar, and it didn't look particularly comfortable. "I just wanted you to be honest and tell me what you were doing it for."

"Fine, I was whoring myself for information James," Artie said matter of factly. "That's the long and short of it. And before you ask it's not the first time, and no I don't particularly enjoy doing it like this, but I'm an actor and I'm good at appearing that I do."

Jim reached behind him, and pulled out the stool at the dressing table before plopping himself down on it in a way that told Artemus that he wasn't going anywhere. At least, not soon enough. "And you do this a lot?"

"Not all the time." He exhaled slowly. This was surreal - Jim was being reasonable. "There are not that many people willing."

"To do that for the government, or to sleep with you?" It was almost a joke, as Jim leaned his elbows on his knees. Artie wasn't sure what to do with that, but Jim's voice was calm, level.

"Oh yes very funny," Artie said. The humour was difficult to raise because there seemed to be a fair amount of truth in it. "The former. As for the latter, I am a more discriminating on my own behalf thank you."

"Okay." Jim's expression softened a hair, mostly around his eyes. "I was just worried you were mixed up with the diplomat. You drank a lot at dinner."

Okay, he was confused now. Jim should not be taking this so well. "And I can drink you under the table any day sonny Jim," he replied with a bit more humour. "I'm an actor Jim. A good one. A very good one because nothing hones the performance like acting for your life. I'm only mixed up with the diplomat for mission purposes." He paused a little and considered what Jim had said. "You were worried about me?"

"I know he's tied up in the missing guns. And if he is, the Colonel I've been dealing with wants him hung, diplomatic immunity be damned. I know you have friends everywhere you end up, and I worried that you'd get caught up in it." Jim was still watching him. "I'm still not sure what I saw."

"I get missions Jim, and I do what I have to do to make it happen," Artie answered. "I suppose I should be grateful that you don't want to beat the crap out of me for what you are not sure what you saw."

"I've trusted you to watch my back more times than I can count, Artie. Why would I take it out on you if you're doing it for a mission? I don't think I could do it." He looked down at his hands. "I think you deserve better than that."

He blinked. He was genuinely moved by that simple statement. "Thank you. That means... Well it means a lot to me Jim. I've had people turn on me before."

"They weren't real friends." Jim looked back up. That was part of the enjoyment of working with Jim. He was a horrible poker player, a poor actor. When there was emotion on his face, it was all there, all real.

Even so, Artie wasn't entirely sure what he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Emotion for him not just about his safety, or was that just wishful thinking on his part? "I'm lucky to have you," he said genuinely hesitating. "So, you weren't revolted?"

"I'd rather not see Campbell naked again, if that's what you mean." It was a slightly hesitant answer as well. Jim shifted, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I don't know what I think."

"Well at least you didn't mind seeing me naked," Artie joked a little weakly. "It's a lot to take in I know. I'm sorry." And he really wanted that bath now.

It was just a question of how to run Jim out without running Jim out. "Nothing to be sorry about. I'm just glad you're all right. Do you need me to do anything? Get anything back to Washington?" As if Jim made a more unobvious smuggler of intelligence than the actor did.

"We appear to have a mutual mission to finish," Artie said. "You work on it your way, I'll work on it mine. If you manage to break it by tomorrow night let me know."

"And spare you from having to see Campbell again?" Jim nodded, arms crossing briefly and then settling again. "If something goes wrong, you'll come find me?"

He smiled. "Always Jim. Though the going wrong bit usually happens to you." Hopefully they could just sort of brush over this whole thing and Jim could just turn a blind eye when it happened.

Jim was a good man, honest and trustworthy. It was very likely he'd turn a blind eye to it all and Artemus would never hear of it again. Or at least, he was allowed to hope. Jim laughed, standing up finally. "I'll be fine, Artie."

"You make sure of that," he said hoping the bath was filled already as advertised. They had made a big deal about it being available when he wanted it with hot water as well. Pure luxury.

He needed it after all that. "I will." He started to head for the door, and Artemus finally relaxed. "Good night, Artie."

"Good night Jim," he said quietly. "Thank you." It was the nicest thing anyone had done for him, to come and check on him like that.

To follow him out of a banquet because they'd thought he'd drunk too much, and needed watching out for. "It's nothing, Artemus. I'm glad you're okay." He let himself out, and Artemus would need to lock it up behind him, and then he could wash and rest. He was going to need all the rest he could get.

* * *

In the morning, James West had no better idea of what to think about what he’d witnessed than he had the night before. He’d half expected for the man to be absconding with Artemus in the usual way – kidnapping, torture, and ransom, something that made sense in Jim’s mind. Sodomy hadn’t actually been expected as something on the docket. Neither had the idea of Artemus doing it for the job.

What bothered him most was the act that he wasn't bothered about it. Everything told him he was meant to be that way, react how Artie had seemed to expect him to react, but he just didn't. He'd been relieved to find him safe, then worried that it was somehow something despicable and forced but when he learned the truth he wasn't disgusted.

He did it with pretty women all the time. Slept with them when he didn't give a whit. Difference was, he wasn't taking it up the backside. Which was kind of hard to imagine.

No one thought twice about sleeping with women for information and he supposed it made sense that the government was pragmatic enough that it would cover all possible avenues of seduction.

It hadn't looked that pleasant for Artemus, even if Campbell had his face twisted in a form of ecstasy.

Artie had been on his upper arms, his shoulders, his face grimacing as Campbell had just kept moving. It was a little maddening, an image he couldn't shake out of his head. Artie deserved better than that.

That bothered him where the act itself didn't. Of course he'd know about it - in the war he'd known a few of his men who spent time with each other like that. As long as it didn't interfere or endanger anyone he didn't see why it would be his business. Discretion was necessary but he couldn't see how it was different from the men blowing off steam with women. Technically they were all immoral creatures in the eyes of the bible - he wasn't why one type of immorality should be better than another.

It did figure that the government was willing to sponsor it if the outcomes were in their favour. There had to have been a reason Artemus had been asked, and Jim never had gotten such a proposition from any of his many master.

Logic would dictate that Artemus was interested in that in some respects although he had definitely seen Artie enjoy the company of ladies as well with evident pleasure. Perhaps he was generally well disposed towards either sex, and that was a thought that made him feel a little hot under the collar.

He wasn't going to think about it, but it was an idea that lingered stupidly at the back of his head while he dealt with Colonel Wilkins, and spent the day drawing up a long list of what had gone missing in which shipments, from where and to where, as well as the dates and people suspected to know of the shipment. It was all very dry, very Quartermaster work.

He wanted to go out there and investigate in a more hands on way. Still, patterns were emerging of some very strange things going missing. This wasn't as simple as something like pure arms shipments disappearing. He wanted to discuss it with someone but Artie would be doing his performance and then being with Campbell.

He didn't have a sounding board, and when he'd set off on the case he'd expected to work it solo. But there were an awful lot of chemicals missing, and black powder, and that made Jim think of weapons, of bombs, of schemes beyond theft. Of outfitting an army, from the bolts of cloth that'd gone missing as well, and other more usual sorts of supplies.

Talking with Artemus just wasn't an option.

He started to ask around town regarding the Frenchman, seeing if he could stir up any information that way. If it wasn't Campbell then something was definitely afoot - and he didn't want to muddy the waters with Campbell too much.

The man was still the American diplomat in Ottawa, whether Jim liked him or not. And he could be useful, so that was a bridge he didn't want to burn. There was always the chance of getting a hold of Artie before or after his show, but...

But that felt like he'd be interfering.

So, Edouard Charbonneau was his target. He had so far discovered that the man had a weakness for fine brandy and fine food. He appeared to have the funds to support his lifestyle as well which was interesting in itself. Some of the girls mentioned he frequented them on a regular basis as well.

Lived a large life, in the manner one expected from the French. He was apparently competent at his job, and if he was immediately involved in anything, he was competent in the cover-up as well, because Jim hadn't found a whit. It was time to start looking into the man's property and holdings to get a clue.

He took a convenient ride out towards the man's house on the edge of town. It was a grand affair and as unmissable as described but he circled around to take a look at the perimeter a little more discretely.

Pacing it out, doing a good careful reconnaissance before he committed to anything. There was a front door and, lavish thing, a side door that led into a court yard, and the back of the courtyard which seemed to be a servant's entrance. And around all of that, a wooden fence, a pittance to safety.

He wasn't sure how to approach - whether to sneak in or make an official visit. Did he want to jeopardize things so early on? Possibly not. It would be polite to drop in and he might spot something that would give him reason to come back more discretely.

Time to go and knock on the door of one of the richest men in town. Richest, *implanted* men in town. He veered quietly to the left, and circled around the building before making a show of coming up the official drive. Interesting, there were some guards of a definite mercenary looking type, although the person who greeted him was completely unlike a mercenary.

"Excusez-moi monsieur, may I ask your business?" he said with a haughty look. "I am aide to Monsieur Charbonneau, you may call me Anton."

"All right, Anton. I'm from the American Military, and came to pay my respects to a diplomat from another allied nation. My name's captain James West." He smiled while he said it, hoping that might be enough.

"Ah, Captain West, I believe there has been talk of you in town - how could there be anything else?" Anton smiled thinly at him. "Enter s'il vous plait, I will inquire whether Monsieur Charbonneau is free to speak to you."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." He wondered what the talk of the town was, and where it was going. He did tend to draw rumors, but when a captain travelled by himself, that along was worthy of rumors.

He was ushered into a very opulent baroque style drawing room. There was high proportion of books that were about Napoleon on the shelves and other historical French authors he did not specifically recognize.

He'd have to ask around about then, but he noted them in his mind. Marc René looked interesting, but he didn't touch any of them. Yet. Just wandered closer, looking at the shelves in a bored way that might befit anyone loitering in a drawing room.

"Captain West, a true pleasure," a florid sounding voice sounded behind him. "It is so rare to find such civilized behavior as introducing oneself to one's peers still adhered to." Charbonneau entered the room, elegantly coiffured. "Of course I would make time to see such a distinguished guest."

"I try my best to have good manners. The military tends to take those edges off." He smiled at the man, not bowing, but polite in his manner. "I've heard quite a bit about you in my short time in town."

"Exaggeration I have no doubt," the Frenchman said depreciatingly. "I live...modestly while trying to maintain civility and it is often the occasion for some level of amazement in town. I am afraid it is not hard to do this."

"Mr. Campbell mentioned you at dinner last night. I don't think he was exaggerating. You two were able to strike a very interesting tariffs deal." He took a look around the library.

"Between two reasonable men, such accommodations can be made," Charbonneau replied as he poured out a brandy. "Can I tempt you Captain? It is the finest French cognac - a vice I have I am afraid."

"I won't say no to an offered drink." It bought him more time than playing the upstanding officer who wouldn't drink in public. Jim crossed over towards Charbonneau. "I wondered if you had a military contingent that I could liaise with."

"Ah well, I would say I have on retainer some skilled men, but that they are not alas a military force," Charbonneau proffered the drink. "I do not know if they would suit your needs? I employ them as security mainly."

Jim took the drink with an inclination of his head. "No, I was looking for any official military contingent from France. My regards to your security, though, they seem quite thorough."

Charbonneau laughed. "Official military of France? Ah oui, we have them, this is Ottawa and despite the esteemed Mr. Campbell's reservations they are a fine force. IF you so desire I can introduce you to their commander. Of course technically I give the orders, but I am told the military speak their own language."

"We do indeed." Jim smiled, and added pleasantly, "I'd appreciate the opportunity to meet your representational forces. I've been up here with the Canadian forces going over some quartermaster sorts of things, and would appreciate a different eye."

"Mmm, but of course," Charbonneau nodded. "I believe they are practicing some maneuvers near to here, barely a couple of miles distance up the road. It is their belief this may dissuade this terrible bandit activity we have all been suffering."

"Yes, that's what I'm looking into. I saw a shipment from Paris went missing as well. Who should I contact for the inventory of that shipment?"

"I will ensure that Anton has it for you," he said looking at him over the rim of his oversized cognac glass. "Where are you staying Captain West? I can send this and any other information you might find useful to you in town if that is convenient?"

"I'm at the Clifton, and I'd greatly appreciate the assistance and cooperation." He took another swig of the drink Charbonneau had poured him, still looking around. "I see you have military inclinations as well, sir."

"Oh merely a historical interest," he replied with a thin smile. "Once France was the greatest military power the world had ever seen. I do enjoy reading of our glory days."

"Power ebbs and fades. England's the crowning glory right now." Not America, not France. Jim didn't even want to think about war, because he was willing to wager the diplomat himself hadn't ever seen war.

For a brief moment Jim saw a twist of hatred in the man's urbane expression that was smoothed out almost immediately. "Ah well c'est la vie. One rises, another falls. No doubt France will have its glory days again."

"I'm sure it will. We're preoccupied over here, after all." Jim cracked a wide smile, playing the continental backwater that was expected of him, even if he was polite and cultured.

Charbonneau laughed politely. "Now, is there anything else you would like in terms of information? I will arrange it to be sent ...ah Anton, thank you..."

He passed over a scrap of paper Anton had brought in and scribbled something in French on the bottom. "This is where Captain Gobin is conducting his little war games should you wish to drop in."

"Captain Gobin, you said? Thank you." He needed to look into just what they were calling war games, and he could start by scouting the area out under cover of darkness.

"It is of course my pleasure," he said with brief bow. "Now I am afraid Captain West that I must bid you adieu. I have other pressing appointments to deal with. I do hope you do not think me rude."

"No, of course not. Thank you for entertaining my unexpected arrival here, Mr. Charbonneau." Jim took one last sip of the drink, and turned to see himself out as well, because it was rude to loiter in someone's drawing room.

He wasn't completely sure what to make of Charbonneau -- there were a few things that niggled at his mind about him, but he wasn't sure if they were serious or whether the Frenchman was all bluster and no substance. But the troops holding the guns... that was a more likely proposition.

French troops on Canadian soil. Were they what was allowed with a diplomatic mission, or more? If he found any overlap between the man's physical security and those troops, then they were more like a militia. Either way, it was suspicious, and he had something to follow up with.

He considered whether to do that immediately and then thought he would head to town first in case he was being watched, and maybe send a message to Artie as he had promised to be around after the performance and if he was out in the wild he might have to let him down."

It was always best to at least stop and correlate with other people working the same case. Jim had seen men go missing in the course of collecting military intelligence, working alone and not missed until it was far too late.

He retrieved his horse, feeling eyes on him as he rode back towards town. Yes something was definitely going on but he could afford not to be completely reckless with Artie in town, however unplanned it might have been. He wasn't going to just not show up having said otherwise.

Though, by showing up, if people were following him he might tip them off to Artie. It was a chance he was going to have to take, and hopefully everything would go well. After all, Campbell had suggested he look Artie up, see a little of his show. He had a reason to be there other than the mission.

They certainly wouldn't think he was on to anything if he took in a show. He nudged his horse into a trot back into the centre of town, trying to remember where the show actually was being staged. He would have missed a lot of it but he could be there to show willing and provide cover. He'd never had a lot of time for watching Artie 'do his thing' as usually they were in the midst of something very urgent so he wasn't entirely sure what to expect.

Still, he got a funny look at the door that told him he was late, paid his money for a seat in the back, and started quietly into the theatre. The lights were out, except for on stage, so Jim moved through quietly, careful to not brush by too many people. He'd seen a play or two before the war, but after it all just. Stopped. There hadn't been time, or inclination, if Jim was honest.

Nothing he had ever seen on stage had ever lived up to the adrenalin of the various missions he had been on. He expected to be bored to be honest because Shakespeare was long dead and presumably his humour with it...but he was surprised. It was actually funny, and somehow understandable when it was acted and spoken. Artie...in his full make up and regalia, and the way he moved did somehow seem otherworldly and impish. He recognized some of the expressions - that fey look that he sometimes got just before he did something crazy and random, or even the smug grin he used when he gave him something he had created for the purpose of chaos and mischief to their enemies.

It was all there to support the story, this time. Artie seemed to delight in the ending, making his final plea as puck to the audience. Jim still couldn't work out why Shakespeare hadn't been able to decide between Robin Goodfellow and Puck. Had to have been a rhyming thing.

Still, he wasn't entirely sure why it was a surprise but Artie was actually very good at what was technically his real profession. It made him wonder what else he had missed about his sometime partner. He decided to go to the "stage door" such as it was as that appeared to be what others were doing if they wished to speak to the cast. He just didn't know what came next. Did cast members come to the door on their way out? Jim was much more inclined to find an alternative entrance, but he was equally inclined to put on a good show for anyone who was watching him.

In the end he mentioned it to one of the stage hands who seemed to be more intent on having a smoke than anything else, who shrugged and said they would be out when they had wiped off the worst of the greasepaint. It seemed to take a long time, or perhaps he was just impatient. Eventually though Artie emerged, and looked surprised to see him.

"Why Captain West, an unexpected pleasure."

"Artemus." He smiled, stepping up towards Artie, one hand out in greeting. "That was a pretty good show."

"Well, it was a passable performance," Artie replied with a smile. "I was not expecting you to actually attend. I was sure you had pressing military business."

"I did, but I wanted to see you perform for once. Can I buy you a drink before you have to run off to your next engagement?" He pulled at Artie's hand, so it was less of a question Artie had a choice about answering

"Sure, I'm not going to say no to an old friend," Artie agreed. "Come on. I'll make it a quick one."

"Great. So how long's your show going to be up here?" He turned through the gathered people, leading the way for Artie. He looked in better spirits than he'd been the night before

"Oh, not that much longer. There is a limit to how many times someone will come and see A Midsummer Night's dream after all. Although it has been a good run so far," Artemus replied. "I hope it did not interrupt your own business for long?"

"No, it was a good interruption. Sometimes my horse gets tired of me." He fell into step with Artemus, trying to work out how best to get the information across to him without giving it away in public.

"Surely not with your sparkling repartee?" Artemus grinned at him. "Been out riding have we?"

"Out to meet the French Ambassador," Jim agreed. Artie did just make things easy for him, drawing it out naturally. "His military unit is taking precautionary maneuvers against the smugglers I mentioned at dinner last night, apparently."

"Well, I should have known the manners the military drilled into you would come to the fore eventually," Artie said with a teasing smile. "I do hope you managed to sample some of his fine drink. Rumor has it around town that he has it shipped in from the old country."

"I did -- it was quite good. If you ever find yourself over that way, you'll see for yourself." He wished Artie didn't have to meet Campbell afterward, because his head was full of distracting images of how that was going to go. "I'm going to go talk to the French army representatives tomorrow, same as I did today with the Canadians."

"Well that will be exciting," Artie pushed his way into the bar. "I hear they are a fine body of men, although sadly they don't come into town often. Although I suspect they would refrain from watching something as solidly English as Shakespeare. National pride is important to them. Drink captain?"

"Absolutely. It's on me. So if you were performing Candide, you think they'd show up?" Probably not. Probably, Jim was willing to bet that when he found hem he might find a lot of the missing shipments.

Artie settled on a barstool. "I suppose I could try doing my parts in a French accent. Do you think it might work?" He looked mischievous and Jim was sure it looked like they were just having a normal conversation.

"They might find it lacking." He waved at the bartender. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It's always good to know you're doing well."

"Well, I'm not the darling of the stage yet," he replied. He had shifted into a more vapid tone as the bartender came to serve them. "But give me time, and I have them eating out of my hands."

"There's no convincing you to come back to the Army, is there...?" No, not likely, and the government already had its hooks in him. He wondered under what pretenses and what his job was. Maybe he was still in the Army after all.

"Do I look like in the market for the military James?" Artie asked. "Neither side was particularly happy with me and all of them seem frankly relieved when I left."

"Still. I get tired every once in a while of working alone." He took the beer from the bartender when he brought them, and took a sip. Not bad at all, and likely better than the water.

"Then maybe you should consider taking up acting James," Artie teased again. He took a long drink. "Mmm. I could act like I was in the military, would that work?"

"That's probably as close as we'd get." He snorted, and took another sip. "I know you have another commitment. I'll swing by and catch you tomorrow night after the show?"

"I appreciate your interest, I could get used to it," Artemus said and he seemed genuine in that moment. "Try not to walk into the middle of a war-game - I know your tendency to get shot."

"If you don't see me tomorrow, that'll be what happened," Jim joked, taking another sip of his beer.

"One less ticket sale - such a tragedy!" Artie said dramatically but his eyes were sharp and calculating. "The woods are a dangerous place with all these bandits if that is where you are intending on going."

"It is. It's out in the western part of the woods," Jim said agreeably. "But I should be back around tomorrow."

Artemus nodded and then pulled out a pocket watch. "And agreeable that your company is, I must go Captain. I have a dinner to attend and I do not wish to be late." He knocked back the rest of his drink and stood. "Thank you for the drink Jim...and the company. I appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure, Artemus." Jim smiled as he turned to watch Artemus leave the bar. Damn shame.

Being in contact with James almost made it harder to go around to see Campbell. He still hailed a carriage to take him over to that general vicinity, because he wasn't exactly playing up his horsemanship, and romping back and forth across stage was more exhausting than people tended to think. Holding a strange posture for that length of time *alone* was enough to do a man in.

The prospect of what he was going to do was not particularly appealing either, although this time he had made sure to be prepared even before he saw James. He was still sore even now and things weren't likely to improve tonight.

Campbell had a very satisfactory house befitting his station and it appeared that he was to be treated to a private and exclusive dinner as he was ushered inside and the staff immediately vanished.

Always a good sign when one was expecting an interlude of either a romantic or a criminal nature, or both in their case. Artemus turned to see if the staff had disappeared through any particularly highly interesting secret doors or passageways, but he could hear Campbell coming towards the dining room.

He smiled and put on his charming face as he entered. "William, a pleasure to see you again so soon."

"It's great to have company, particularly you. Things are not always pleasant up here." He came in close, close enough to take Artemus's hand.

"And there I am told that culture practically floods the town," he replied allowing his hand to be taken. "I was surprised to find French wine on offer."

"It's the easiest wine to get in town, with Mr. Charbonneau here," Campbell smiled, taking Artemus over to the table and waiting for him to sit down. It was a miracle he didn't try pulling a chair out as well. Artemus wasn't sure he would've tolerated it.

There were limits. "I see I rate a private dinner William. I must have impressed." He smiled at him. "Though I am glad you didn't see the performance today - not our finest hour. I believe Oberon had had a little too much of the fairy dew before he set foot on stage today."

"That is the problem with working with others. You never know when they're going to screw something up for everyone." He was grinning, though, which seemed to imply to Artemus that he had or thought he had everything under his control.

"Oh, but sometimes of necessity, we have to tolerate others," Artemus replied even as he was poured a glass. "It is a trial but yes..."

"How does a play organize itself? Anything at all like the military, or is it more disorganized?"

"That depends how many ego's you trip over in the military," Artemus considered. "Come to think of it, not that dissimilar, I suspect."

"No?" William sounded amused, and then seemed to think it over, while one of the staff whisked in to set food down before them before whisking out. "No, I suppose not. Practice is rather like drilling."

"It depends who the director is. I have worked for a few who would put commanders to shame," he said airily. "Capable of reducing strong men to tears."

William laughed, and leaned over to pour Artemus a glass of wine. "With shouting, or threats? I ask because I find myself in a situation of strangely similar state."

Now that was interesting. "Some of both," Artie said. "I find it hard to believe that someone could even attempt to intimidate you." The flattery was laid on a little thick but he could feel a story there.

A useful thread that, if he pulled it just right, might unravel into something useful. Or, a wad of yarn he could end up getting himself strung up with, if he was going to carry that metaphor forward. "Not intimidate. More that I need to lay a little pressure on in a manner that isn't my usual diplomatic style."

Artie shook his head sampling the food. "Marvelous. Mm, yes...how boorish of this person." He leaned forward as if intrigued. "More pressure? Intriguing."

"It is and it isn't," William agreed. "My colleague, Mr. Charbonneau is having trouble with an endeavor he's launched."

"He is trying to start his own vineyard so he doesn't have to pay for the wine?" Artemus joked as he continued eating. It would not appear to seem to over the top interesting.

Better to just drag on with conversation and let things move at a natural pace. William inclined his head slightly, smiling. "Something rather like that, yes. Unfortunately, the grape-pickers are restless."

"Tsk, and they need your skills to sort it out?" He took another mouthful and raised his eyebrows.

"They've stopped listening to Charbonneau. I suspect they have designs on..." William hesitated. "Well. Running the vineyard themselves."

That was bad. The French military were the ones initiating revolution? Hmm. Exactly where Jim was heading like the trouble magnet he was.

"That never works well. Well, I'm sure you can deal with it, and maybe Charbonneau will owe you a favour. That's always a good thing."

"If I can ever get a favour out of him, yes. We'll have to see how my talk with the pickers goes tomorrow." He was sticking to the vineyard suggestion, which was good of him at least.

Artie finished his last mouthful. "Seems all terribly serious. Perhaps I can entertain you to take your mind off of them."

William gave an easy smile while he chewed a bite of meat and swallowed. At least he was polite enough to not talk with his mouth full. "I'd appreciate that. Why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

"And bore you with tales of shows around the country?" Artemus laughed a little. "Well if that's what you want.." He could pull up endless anecdotes of his acting life, most of them true.

If it was what it took to distract the man, and perhaps draw a little more information out of him, all the better. He had to try to find Jim, once he was done with Campbell, hopefully before Jim went tearing off without thought to the risk he was stepping right into.

He launched into some of his liveliest stories, because no one in their right mind would believe what went on behind the scenes and soon had Campbell laughing. Jim had said that he wasn't going to investigate until tomorrow - technically he had until then. Or he could drop in after he was done with Campbell.

After Campbell was probably best, because Jim likely considered an ungodly hour morning. Artemus was willing to *pretend* at an early start, but it seldom worked well for him unless there was a reveille sounded. 

Things progressed quite smoothly into the seduction and Artemus was sure that the staff had been dismissed for the night - that or they had experience of their master's predilections because Campbell was very bold about his moves.

At the table of all places, which was somewhere Artemus wasn't quite accustomed to anything more than raised eyebrows. Not a hand coming over his own, or Campbell moving his chair over as a prelude to kisses. Still, he played along with it, because if the man thought there was any sense in using it as blackmail against him he'd be sorely mistaken.

That was one advantage to his profession - it was a comparatively accepted part of it. "It would seem this is a better dessert," Artemus murmured after a long kiss. 

"My apologies. I think you just get the better of me." And that the man liked to touch, a hand lingering against Artemus's side in a way that implied his shirt was going next. Artie'd be lucky if they managed to get upstairs at all.

"Mmm, perhaps we should move somewhere more... discrete?" he asked although it wouldn't be the end of the world to do it elsewhere.

"Should we?" William looked around. "Have you ever done something out in the open?"

"Oh I see.." He smiled. "Not so open as this! It could be interesting though." He smiled slyly.

"I think it would be," William countered, sliding a hand down to Artemus's groin. His fingers stretched and then *clutched*, firm enough.

He couldn't help it, he squeaked a little. "Why, William, I would have thought you could not be that eager," he said half lidding his eyes in a semblance of desire.

It always seemed to work a charm, and the answering smile had it right. It still worked. William pulled back. "Let me return a favour from yesterday."

"Oh really? In what way?" Artemus practically purred. "I thought the pleasure was all mine."

It hadn't been, but that was neither here nor there. William shifted out of his chair, and knelt down slowly, implicating just one thing that Artemus couldn't recall ever having said no to. "This way."

"Well, a definite favour returned," he said. He wasn't going to say no to that. "That way has to be one of my favorite ways."

Fingers pulling at his trousers, pushing up his shirt-tails just enough, while William leaned in to kiss his stomach. He could easily close his eyes and enjoy it, but for the moment he was watching William because William seemed to watch to be watched. 

He was conscious of that, and made sure he made appreciative expressions and sounds. He must have made more of an impact on him than he thought. "Oh that..that feels very good..."

Warm, un-callused fingers on his cock, pulling it out of his pants and stroking it upright before lips touched it, lingering against the underside. "Good."

Perhaps William wasn't as completely selfish a lover as he had assumed from the previous night. Either that or he was wanting to butter him up for some reason. Either way, warmth and wetness on his skin did feel very good and he moaned a little.

Stretched one leg out, got himself a little room as he slid forward in the chair. William made an encouraging noise, and gave a messy sounding slurp that sent a shiver right up Artemus's spine. "Oh god..." Artemus arched back a bit. "That is...incredible...don't stop." How easy would it be to be to close his eyes and imagine things were being done by someone he wanted to be with. 

Too easy. He'd have to do that later, finish himself off the hard way because he was sure that the steady sucking was going to be the highlight of the evening. He dropped a hand to William's hair, fingers light to the touch when he felt a hand grab his shoulder hard from behind.

He lashed out automatically, cursing himself for a fool. It had been too unselfish an offer for a man like Campbell, and he'd fallen for it. "What the..."

Campbell dropped back, and released him, wiping at the edge of his mouth with his thumb. The hands on his shoulders, not so lucky, and he could see two men bringing shackles out. "I'm not an idiot, Mr. Gordon. A quick inquiry with my staff brought me a long list of stories. It's well known in Washington circles what you do for the state. I just hadn't guessed to what depths you'd stoop."

"That was a long time ago William," he protested and tried to bluff his way out of things. "We did many things during the war."

"Since the war," William countered, making a gesture to his men. "After all, if a man can defect once, a man can make a lifetime habit of it."

"That's just tarring me with a prejudicious brush," he blustered as he was secured. "I had good reasons."

"And I'm sure you have good reasons for getting your way into a man's bed, just when your military cohort shows up in town." William stood up, straightening his clothes. "Now to work out what to do with you."

Damn it, if he had been alone in town, it would have worked. "You could let me go," he said optimistically. "I mean, what harm can I do?"

"Clearly you're here because someone's suspicious of me. I don't know what you're looking for or what you *think* you'll find, but that idea bothers me." He took a step back, while Artemus was shackled tightly hand to hand and ankle to ankle. At least the man could've put his cock away. Still, not so much of a challenge once he was gone.

He just needed to have that time alone. He didn't want to give the man any additional ideas so he remained silent, for once, having to bite his tongue to stop his normal babbling response to danger.

"I suppose we'll have to have you drowned." He folded his arms over his chest, watching Artemus for a reaction.

"All things considered, I'd rather not," he replied casually. The man was looking for fear and reaction.

He wasn't sure if giving it to him or denying it would be more likely to get him killed. Or if it would even matter. "I see. That's rather mild a response. And when we come across your partner tomorrow. Drown him as well?"

"Not that he is my partner, but I'm pretty sure he would give it a miss as well," Artemus answered. So they were on to Jim as well, dammit. Well, it made sense if it was his presence that had alerted him to the issue.

Sometimes sending an overt agent in was about as effective as breaking up a cock fight by throwing a bag of cats in the ring. Oh sure, it did the job, but everyone noticed, too. Particularly the roosters.

"I'm sorry your performance tonight wasn't your best. Because it's certainly going to be your last. Weight him down and throw him in the river, boys."

Great, well escapology it was then. Still, he should seem too blasé about it. "No!, No, William, please...you can't be serious..."

"Completely serious. Take him away." He turned, waving them off. It was surprising, if just because Artemus had expected a bit more gloating. Or discussing of plans, but still, it didn't seem too dire. Artemus protested when they grabbed him by the arms, but it wasn't horrible.

He struggled gamely as they fixed him up, chained - totally overdone of course and the old trick of tensing out at the right point would give him enough slack. He hyperventilated in apparent panic but it was to flood his body with oxygen for that crucial couple of minutes under the water.

"No sense in fighting it," one of the goons advised him. "The river's deep enough for ships, and you'll sink fast." Like he was supposed to be jolly about that turn of events!

"You bastards! I'll give you money, anything..." he wriggled gamely. Deep enough for ships...damn it. 

He'd have to move fast before the current or, more distressingly, the cold got to him. But they started with walking him out of the building, furtively, clutched tight between them as if he might manage to get away there.

There was no way to shake them off so he concentrated on palming his lock picks ready and trying to resist convincingly. It didn't seem to do him any good though and he had the feeling they had used this particular spot before. 

People tended to revisit virile spots that had previously been effective. This was no different, and it made him wonder who else had looked into the diplomat and ended up on the bottom of the riverbed. "And if your body does rot out of the shackles, well. Probably fell in drinking after the show."

He made one last struggle as he was hurled and took a deep breath as he hit the freezing col of the water. It was pitch black and he had to do it by feel but he was picking the locks, stiff bloody things, wriggling hard to get out of chains and it was the cold that was biting hard.

The icy water felt like it was deadening his fingers right off. He got one wrist free, and then lost a lock pick to the frigid dark.

Dammit, this wasn't going to plan. He had to fumble for another and he was being carried deeper, the pressure on his lungs growing and only the weight telling him which way was up in the dark freezing water. Chains were off his feet, so he stopped plummeting downwards and he could kick with his feet even as he tried picking his wrist locks. There, even as his lungs were burning with need he came free, and had to force the instinct down to surface just there and then. No, he kicked hard and fast under the water towards the nearside bank.

At least, he hoped it was the nearside bank, and not a dock or the side of a ship. There was a little light up there, and he reached hands out desperately, scrabbling up onto the steep bank once be broke air, gasping.

He had to try and muffle the gasps, in case there was someone being keen and listening. He was freezing, he was soaked and he had a feeling they would go after Jim next. He had to find some clothes and... not be seen. They had to believe he was dead, that was his only advantage.

He had to stay dead, and that meant blending into the rest of the world. Into the worst parts of the world. He staggered quietly forward, towards the nearest building that he could hide in the shelter of.

* * *

Jim knew he had told Charbonneau that he was going to look in on the French military the next day, but he decided he didn't have to stick to exactly what he had said considering they were the source of the problem. Instead, just before dawn, he was out in the area hoping to catch them in the act.

He dismounted, leaving his horse a safe distance for sneaking in towards the appointed area. If he caught them at something innocuous, well, it was better that way. If he saw they were up for something, the silence would help.

If nothing else he wanted to see what they were planning before he was meant to be there. He found the encampment easily enough - he was meant to in some respects as everything looks normal there, but he looked around deeper into the woods, coming across a cave.

It always seemed to be caves. Natural or man-made, they sheltered from weather and prying eyes better than any hide-cover or tent could. The problem was that there was one way in and one way out, with no way to tell when someone could come near the mouth.

He watched for a while - no light in there that he could see. No one specifically on guard, so he moved in to take a look. He sidled up to the cave entrance and peered in and then moved forward. Crates, he could see a hell of a lot of crates. Weapons, arms, explosives...

A footfall coming up from deeper in the cave, and Jim shifted, ducking quickly behind a crate. Just one watchman on the inside, then.

He could deal with that. What he needed to know was what they were planning and who was the mastermind. Time to try and figure that out. He watched, trying to catch sight of someone. Maybe they were going to do a shift change.

Once he knew who was what and what was going on, he could hand the information over and let someone with a larger force deal with the takedown. That was a stockpile, though, and not one that the Canadian forces would've allowed. If one iota had been allowed, it would've been in a wooden store-house, not a cave.

There were other footsteps approaching and then a brief exchange of French, which he struggled to pick out. He knew some but not completely fluently and had to strain to listen. Something about changing the watch, and new orders.

New orders could be an order to strike or to dismantle the place and move it to a new location. Jim wasn't sure which one was the worst outcome for both him and the larger mission -- either one would see an influx of people into the storage cave.

If one was leaving, then he could take down the one guard, and then track down the leader. 

He waited a moment until he heard footsteps walking away and then positioned himself. Piece of cake - simple sneak and grab, chokehold and... done. 

He dropped the man to the floor having more time now to see the scope of the plan. Jim needed to tie the man up, drag him to the back of the cave. Explore, quickly, and see if he could find any solid documentation that linked the affair to either Campbell or Charbonneau or whoever was running the show.

He found a length of rope, quickly secured him and started looking. There would be some accounting of what was there he was sure and it would most likely be wherever the guards used for a rest point. It didn't take long to find the spot, mainly from the cigar smoke from the previous guards habit and he poked around and there it was, not even well hidden, a map nailed to the wall, and docket of papers that he flicked through. It was better planned than he thought.

And then he saw the name at the bottom of one of the correspondences. Campbell.

Time to go, then. He started to pack up letters, folding up that one correspondence because no one would notice it was missing until he was well on his way, and the tied up man managed to get himself conscious and free.

Campbell and Charbonneau and Artie had been with Campbell all night. Did that mean they knew about their involvement? Jim wasn't sure. He needed to take the man down somehow and for that with troops as equipped as this he would need back up.

It was better to take evidence with him and go. He knew that, solidly, that he couldn't take the whole force down even if that was what he was itching to do. He headed out of the cave and came to a sudden halt when he heard the multiple clicks of triggers being cocked back. "No further Captain West."

Should've moved faster.

He lifted his hands into the air slowly. "Good morning. I was just looking for uh, the leader here..."

"Captain West, a pleasure once again," Charbonneau nudged his horse forward. "So early in the morning too. "

"Early to bed, early to rise. I didn't surprise you, did I? It seems like I did." He still had his hands in the air, poised to grab for anything useful that came into range. If anything useful came into range, which it hadn't yet.

"Oh please, as if we did not realize. Monsieur Campbell has contacts you know in Washington," Charbonneau sneered a little. "And now we have to arrange for a disappearance or tragic accident to occur. Perhaps you can heroically perish trying to take on the bandits singlehanded."

"You're not inclined to set up a fair fight?" If he could just get closer to someone with a gun. He'd always been an excellent shot.

"Don't be ridiculous," the Frenchman laughed. "Fair fights are for those who wish to lose. Secure him. "

He waited for one man to get closer than the other, and twisted, dropping his hands and getting a hold of his pistol to fire in Charbonneau's direction.

It didn't quite work. They were ready for his move and in the resulting scuffle he caught a rifle butt to the head and was out for the count in moments.

* * *

He still felt chilled to the bone by the time he managed to circle back and make it look like his horse had wandered out of the stable along with a few other horses. It was the only way to get a reliable ride who was accustomed to him, who wouldn't protest not only having a heavy weight on its back but a cold, wet shivering weight.

He was going to be damn lucky to not get pneumonia from this. It seemed no one was foolish enough to leave laundry hanging out over night.

Still he had to get to the place Jim had mentioned because if he had walked into a trap then so would his derring-do Captain.

And in all likelihood, his derring-do captain was already in the trap. Still, he wasn't serving as bait, since Artemus knew he was already assumed dead. On the other hand, that meant even less time for Jim, because Jim was then useless to no one.

They would want to get rid of him as soon as they could, he was sure. So, here he was heading out into the wilds, freezing cold having had to creep in and steal one of his own weapons, and then steal his own horse. Campbell and Charbonneau were going to pay for this, especially if they had done anything to Jim.

It took him some time to locate the French encampment, which looked legitimate - aside from the fact he recognized Jim's horse. It was unlikely that Jim was in there having a cup of coffee with the men, or sharing a drink, so he dismounted and left Cinnamon to make friends with whatever the name of Jim's horse was.

Time for some scouting of his own. He was quiet adept at this sort of thing, because he tried to hide in plain sight. He managed to find the uniforms and liberated a few items, so he could pass as a soldier. Thank god he knew French because instead of the sneaking around in the undergrowth, he found himself an empty crate to carry. The trick was miming that it was just heavy enough that no one else would want to help him with it. Human nature meant it was automatic to look the other way when someone else was doing work and you didn't have to. He strayed close enough to groups to eavesdrop though.

In that moving boxes back and forth way. He caught interesting snippets. The boss man was angry from the sound of it, and they were waiting until nightfall to dispose of something in the river. That was being too wedded to a murder plan if that something was going to be Jim. If it was Jim, then he had to track him down before nightfall. Damn it he should have known. West was good, but he didn't remember him being good at something like Houdini tricks.

If he got out of this they would have to see about that.

Clearly he needed to at least teach Jim about lock picks, even if he didn't use it with Artie's finesse. Now he just needed to place his box, and go looking for Jim.

He managed to case the encampment, completely and then saw a detachment of men heading up a small track away from the rest of them, with a wagon so he "loaded" his crate and then himself under the cover over the load. It was brilliant, as long as he off-loaded himself before the wagon stopped and they started to offload it themselves. One or two men, he was all right in a fight. More than that, and he ended up overwhelmed surprisingly quickly. Or maybe he just expected too much of himself.

Mind you, give him a sword and he could show them. It was a rattling journey and he shifted to the back of the wagon, figuring he could slip out under the cloth.

They came to a halt and he tensed himself.

Count of one, count of two, count of three, and he quietly flung himself out from under the wagon cover, moving fast to cross from open ground to the shelter of yet more trees. He was rather amazed that he got away with it, but the troops were busy on the other side of the cart bitching at each other about who was going to have to do the heavy lifting. 

More patient watching from the trees - he actually climbed up having learned early on that people tended not to look up unless they were hunting game birds and even then trees didn't come into it.   
He was within earshot at least and raised his eyebrows when he saw Campbell meeting Charbonneau casually.

He had a strong urge to whip a rock at Campbell's head, but didn't give in to childish urges.

"... had to get rid of the actor. It's a shame, but he was colluding."

"You could have kept him a little while for your own pleasure. I would not have minded," Charbonneau shrugged as they walked. "I assume you have told Captain West of his fate?"

"Oh, I haven't bothered. Do you want to join me? I just don't see the sense in dragging it out, getting them infuriated." That was cold, but Artemus held still while he watched them.

"Oh really. Surely that is half the fun," Charbonneau sounded amused. "What is the point of power over an enemy if you can't show it?"

"I think of power in the fact that I quietly had a man killed with no delays. That's rather satisfying." And sick, in a lot of ways. Artemus supposed that he was lucky to be a decent swimmer. Jim was lucky that Artemus was a decent swimmer.

"Particularly as you left him unfulfilled...a crueler cut there has never been," Charbonneau chuckled to himself. "You are not a merciful man William. It is part of your charm. But do not underestimate Captain West. I have read the reports...he has been resourceful."

"That's why I'd like to take care of him quietly and quickly. You could just give me a gun..." Artemus tried hard to not react, to not surge forward and tackle them.

"Non, non, that would be...unpleasantly messy. It leaves marks and stains. Drowning is clean and it can be like he just took off. Much like his partner. Perhaps they will say they took off together. We could frame them," Charbonneau suggested brightly.

"Because a weasel of an actor and a mediocre officer are capable of such brilliance." Campbell smiled, and they kept walking, well out of earshot no matter how much Artemus strained. He had to keep following them.

Or he had to try and rescue James. But then he would have lost them and at least James was going to be here. He very stealthily slipped down the tree, and shadowed them. Evasion and misdirection. "How goes the final preparations on your side?" Charbonneau asked.

"Well. No one else has caught onto it, so it's been going very well. We'll be ready to support you men when they come through." Reinforcements, then. That wasn't good, and it made it all the more important that he and Jim escape to warn them.

"You do not think we should adjust the rendezvous?" Charbonneau queried. "In case Captain West had more information than he claims?"

"There's no harm. Half a mile north?" North of what, though? Couldn't they make it easier by being more specific for Artemus? 

"At the crooked peak," Charbonneau said in agreement. "Eh bon, we must...did you hear something?"   
Artemus was sure it wasn't him that they had heard.

"Is that you, Mr. West? Rattling your cage?" They started further towards a tree-shrouded area, and Artemus shadowed as closely as he could. He couldn't hear Jim yet. Maybe he was fighting a gag.

He was cautious and loitered back, lurking. He listened closely, moving silently and cursing his urge to shiver. Stupid wet clothes. He listened for sounds of Jim, and it was lucky he had decided to follow these two.. He had assumed that Jim had been deeper in the camp.

Not off to the side, out of the way. Perhaps murdering a man was distasteful to the soldiers and they didn't want to risk it. It certainly wasn't distasteful to Campbell's goons. 

"I'm a united states military officer! You can't hold me hostage!"

Yes that was Jim, somehow sure that the uniform would command respect or at least caution. Artemus had no such illusions. "It would appear mon Capitan that we can," Charbonneau said. "For we are doing so as we speak."

"You've already been found out." Yes, by Jim and a dead man. Artemus held still, wondering what sort of response that would get Jim.

"And your friend is dead. So unless he was a very concise reporter, perhaps able to send words through the air, no such thing will occur. I am not concerned."

"What do you mean my friend is dead?" Now there was a tone to send shivers up the spine. Artemus could well imagine that icy rage that sometimes burned in Jim's eyes. It was flattering that Jim appeared to care. Well, a little.

At least he sounded like it. "I mean we drowned him like the sneaking rat he was," Campbell sighed. "And you will follow him, even if I'm more inclined to shoot you in the head."

"You...he wasn't here doing anything! He was just friend from the war...you killed him for nothing!" Jim sounded sincerely outraged and Artie was intrigued at his acting ability. He had some raw talent after all then.

Maybe he needed to pull Jim aside afterwards and encourage that a little. "He was spying on me." Campbell sighed, almost boredly. "It was a shame. He was an excellent whore. But, we're interested in who else you might have told."

"What do you think?" Jim replied. "If they knew do you think I would still be here?"

"Logic says no," Charbonneau suggested as he reached out to rattle the cage. "And yet."

"Perhaps they do not take you as seriously as you think," Jim said in a more annoying bored sounding voice. "I mean, you are nothing to them, the whole government, not really. Even if I disappear, they'll get around to dealing with you."

Eventually.

Possibly after a war started.

"Perhaps. And perhaps it will be too late by then," Charbonneau taunted. "Come, William. We will let him stew."

"As you say," Campbell sounded amused. "It's not like he is going anywhere. I believe we have some last minute plans to make."

And that sounded ominous.

Still, they were better off if he got Jim out first, and possibly lost track of their plans. They could always thwart the plans later, or go and fetch the cavalry, but he probably wasn't to get another goo chance to rescue Jim. And it wasn't as if he needed to justify it to anyone.

He waited for the sound of the two men to disappear off down the track, managing not to leap into action the moment he thought they were gone. He didn't take chances, sneaking up on Jim's position with utmost stealth behind him.

Just in case Jim's space was being observed, though he could see no observation points. Time to move fast, then, pulling a lock pick out quickly before he came around to the front of the cage.

Jim startled for a moment, quiet and just staring. he supposed he should've been grateful that Jim wasn't the sort to set up a noise when a man caught him off guard. His hands were cold enough to make them shivery and unsteady as he picked the lock. Jim was looking at him strangely though, through the bars, which was putting him off. Finally he heard the snick of the lock mechanism and he swung the door open.

"You're..." Wet, alive, cold, tired, all of the above? He didn't expect the quick, crushing bear hug, or for Jim to step away just as fast. "We need to hide."

"Rumors of my demise etcetera, etcetera," Artie said in a hoarse whisper. "We need to regroup. Our horses are ...over that way...a ways from the camp."

"We need backup." And he wasn't sure how far a ways from the camp, because he'd rode in the back of a wagon for a bit. It was hard to guess. Still, Jim moved in close beside him, and seemed to be trying to lead the way.

"Got any?" he asked simply. "A battalion in your pocket would be nice."

"Did they mention any timelines?" He asked it quietly, and they stopped for a moment to crouch behind bushes.

"Final stages they said," Artie replied wearily. Stopping was a bad idea. "Talked about final plans." 

His legs felt weak now that he'd had a moment, and his shoulders were stiff and painful, along with everything else. Jim looked at him for a moment, expression halfway to thoughtful. "We'll ride back, and get the Canadians."

"We haven't got long before they find you missing," Artie said. "Come on...the Canadian need to cut off the supplies as well."

"It's their problem." Which was strange of Jim to say, and Artemus is almost certain that Jim will plan to come back with the so to speak Cavalry. But ducking through the underbrush, he can't help but feel relieved that Jim isn't actually going to drag them both through stopping the plan, whatever it is, immediately.

They had to keep quiet for a bit, but eventually Artie navigated them around the perimeter back to the horses. "I hope you know where your Canadian troop guys are," he said. He had a horrible feeling he was coming down with something, which wouldn't be completely surprising considering he had spent the best part of the day in freezing wet clothes hiding up trees or in undergrowth.

"Back in the fort," Jim offered helpfully. He sounded well, hale and hearty. They couldn't have knocked him too hard on the head getting a hold of him, Artemus supposed. He patted his horses' mane, and looked to see if Artemus was mounting up.

He was stiff and sore and felt that he creaked a little when he was getting on Cinnamon. "Okay, lead on," he said tossing Jim his back up gun. 

"Stay close, and let's ride fast." A walk at first, which Artemus was grateful for, and then a slow cantor that turned to a gallop once Jim likely thought they had the distances from the camp to do it and live.

He could barely wait until this whole crisis was over and he could just lie down and have a bottle of whisky to warm him up.

* * *

By the time they reached the Fort, Artemus was looking rough. Rough, and sick and tired, but it didn't take any of the urgency off of them. He rode straight up to the watch stander. "I'm Captain Jim West, and I need to speak with your Colonel!"

"What is the nature of your business sir?" the man asked courteously enough but he didn't look ready to move any time soon.

"Let's just say it is a matter of national security," Artemus said in a hoarse voice. "It is very important we see him immediately."

"It's about the smugglers," Jim said, his horse prancing as if it could feel his nerves. "I've located them, and they have a storehouse of gunpowder and guns." That meant something to the soldier who nodded curtly and gestured them into the fort even as he turned to jog to go fetch the Colonel. 

"It's nice to not have people trying to shoot us on sight. Or throw us in the river," Artie commented.

"It's sort of refreshing," Jim agreed. "You stay here, while I ride out with them? How're you doing?"

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere without me," Artie replied instantly. "Otherwise you'll get yourself hit over the head again and really James, I don't think you can afford any more concussions."

It was completely out of his jurisdiction, but it still felt wrong to not see it through to the end. Still, Jim could steady his horse and wait and decide later. Soon, but later. "All right, Artie. You got hit in the head any?"

"I leave that to Captains who don't know how to duck," Artemus flashed him a smile even as the Colonel emerged in hurry.

"Report Captain West," the man said briskly. "I understand you have information."

"Yes sir." Jim started to dismount, taking his time to not move too fast. "I just came from a French army encampment outside of town. There I met Diplomats Campbell and Charbonneau. Who took me captive, and planned to murder me. They attempted to murder my friend here, as he was there also looking into their work. All of the missing guns, the explosives, the gunpowder are being stored in a cave there. I have correspondence to pass you as well, taken from their holding area."

"What are their plans?" The colonel asked waiting for and receiving the documents. 

"I would suspect that they involve fomenting a state of war between Canada and the United States," Artemus said dryly. "I am not sure of Campbell's motivation, but he is a man that like's power a great deal."

"And with the troops and the stolen uniforms they have..." Jim left that to dangle, watching the Colonel slowly stiffen as he scanned the letters Jim had stolen.

"Mmm, although I suspect the both of them of already plotting to double cross the other," Artemus added. 

"Lieutenant, muster the troops immediately," the Colonel ordered. "Combat ready."

"I'll..." Accompany them, he wanted to. needed to, but then Artemus would follow and he wasn't in any shape to ride. He was stubborn, but not able.

"What are you waiting for Captain?" Artemus said raising an eyebrow at him. "Time for action rather than subterfuge."

"You're going to stay here." He said it firmly, hoping that Artemus stuck to it. "And get someone to take a look at you." So he could ride out without feeling guilty.

"Oh sure Jim," Artemus said airily. "I could do that and follow you or I could just come with you. I'm not going to slow anyone down, you know that. You don't watch your own back well enough James. Too busy watching everyone else's."

Jim was mostly sure of the fact that he could answer through his clenched teeth. Mostly. "All right. We'll ride with you, to show the way. It'll be faster than a map."

The troops had mustered in quick time, and the Colonel mounted up. "Captain, you and your compatriot lead on. I want this resolved swiftly and decisively. I will have no rebellion here."

"Let's get this over with Jim," Artie said. "Soon we get it done, the sooner I can come back and endure the molly coddling you want to inflict on me."

"Back on the horse, Artie." Jim paced back to his own. If he had to, he could always try tying Artie to the saddle. As it was, he planned to lead the way and hang back.

It seemed all they had done was to ride back and forward around the town, but he felt that rush of adrenalin as they hit the end game. With any luck, they thought he was still in that goddamn cage.

They made it to the area of the cave only to find it in the process of provisioning the French who were well in the process of disguising themselves.

He had his gun drawn, but shadowed behind the Canadian forces. It was their jurisdiction, and there wasn't much need for Jim to explain the story. That Campbell was standing in the mouth of the cave looking shocked and scared suddenly was quite enough.

Bastard. He wasn't sure what he'd done to Artie but he knew it he was looking at him as if a literal ghost had risen up behind him. The Colonel issued a demand for surrender but Charbonneau, the crazy sonuvabitch had flanked them and believed he could take the Canadian troops out. They opened fire, and then it was all guns blazing, and like the war all over again.

It wasn't that everything moved more slowly, it just felt like it. He started to fire, pulling his horse in tightly, moving quickly because a flank attack was enough to cut through them all.

"James!" Artie gestured to two of the wagons that were high on an incline and loaded with gunpowder and munitions. A push and a lit fuse would send them careering into the attacking French.

It might yield a few casualties in the way, but more likely it would panic the other side. He wheeled his horse around to the side, and broke away as if he were fleeing, to make his way back up to the incline. He just had to get there and strike flint.

He was dimly aware that Artie was covering his back, just as he had promised. He literally jumped to one of the wagons hastily, pulling a fuse out and then sparking flint before trying to get the damn wagon to budge. It wouldn't shift, and the fuse was already burning, but there was Artie pushing beside him and it started to move. 

Slowly, and then he felt it tip. He knew it was going to roll on now, so he yelled, "Jump!" and hoped that Artie was paying attention when he jumped from it himself.

He hit the ground and rolled, and saw Artie jump, a little less successfully as he seemed to roll off over the edge of a ditch out of sight and didn't emerge. Not a bad plan because less than ten seconds later the wagon exploded, scattering the enemy and buying the Canadians time to reform and... then it was a foregone conclusion.

Jim staggered to his feet, moving as fast as he could to the edge of the ditch, once it was safe. Not that it was safe as long as there was shooting. And there was Artie, laying on his back grinning up at him. "C'mon. That can't stay safe forever."

"Some of us try and keep our heads down," Artie said. "It knocked the air out of me, so I thought I'd just stay here a bit... You are a bit of an obvious target Jim. Do some proper sniping from here."

He had to swing his legs around, whole body exposed for just a flash of a second, and then he was down in the ditch with Artie, gun still drawn. "Nice spot."

"It could use some redecoration," Artie replied with a smile. And then he started firing at the disarray caused by the explosion.

That was proof enough to Jim that he was fine, that he was well enough, and *alive*, so he twisted and checked three and nine before taking out a French soldier up and to the left.

They had turned the tide of the skirmish, though the French were making an almost fanatical effort to fight back. Between the two of them they were picking off soldiers carefully and it was only a matter of time before a group made a rush at their position. Things got very fraught, as there were some spirited attempts to shoot them pointblank or skewer them both.

He'd never liked the bayonet, for all its effectiveness -- but he wasn't going to die stuck on one, even if he had to shoot a man right in the chest to stop it. "I think it's time to rejoin the group, Artie. I'll cover you."

"Try not to get me shot," the other man replied and promptly scrambled over the edge, zig-zagging backwards and forwards with commendable speed towards the Canadian troops.

Fast enough that Jim only had to fire one shot to break off a French soldier trying to pursue. Hell bent for election, Artie made it back to their allies.

Now it was his turn and he wasn't hanging about either. He had no intention of getting hurt when the job was unfinished. It seemed like the Colonel was getting the upper hand. And then he noticed that Artie wasn't stopping back in the security of his lines, of course not. He seemed to have spotted someone trying to sneak away and was going after them.

So he had to change his tactic, re-angle, and race to arrow on ahead, past Artie, looking to see who he was going for. Campbell, of course. "Stop!" He was running, had his back to Jim, and he just couldn't pull the trigger.

Artie apparently could - at least to shoot the fleeing man in the leg and then to stand over him. "You, you cowardly bastard really need to have something else shot off," he said in a tone very unlike his usual jocularity. 

"How the hell are you still alive?" He was howling it, clutching at his leg as he rolled on the ground. Jim slowed to a jog, and looked over his shoulder.

"Who said that I was?" Artie hissed at the man, and Jim had to admit with the way that the other man looked right now, pale and his eyes probably bright with fever there was something unearthly about him. "Who said that I didn't get dragged all the way to the bottom of the river, fighting the water until it clawed into my lungs? After all how could someone live through being chained to rocks and thrown into a deep current. Would you like to see if that is possible William? Would you like to test how real I could be for yourself?"

His mouth opened, moving like a fish gulping at air. "You're under arrest, Mr. Campbell. For sedition, and charges that probably have to be made just for you. Step back from him, Artie."

Artie didn't move. "Oh, don't spoil my fun James," he said still aiming at Campbell's groin. "After all, I owe him. Maybe he doesn't need to have that around any more... It's not like he knows how to use it."

"Artie. You're not cruel." Jim said it firmly, still standing his ground, but scanning for other threats.

Campbell practically whimpered as Artie cocked the trigger just for a moment, before standing down. "Perhaps, but under other circumstances.." He glanced at Jim even as there was a cheer from the impromptu battlefield. "I do believe William, you have lost."

"Oh god." He was bracing himself as if he still expected to be shot. Jim relaxed, stepping forward to restrain him and tie his wrists off.

Campbell seemed almost relieved to have Jim between him and the man he thought he had killed. Artie sagged a little, a lot of the hardness going out of his expression. " I think I might just sit down a moment James," he said wiping at his forehead. "It's about time you did some of the work today."

"I think so. Let's get back to the fort and get you looked at, since you couldn't listen to me and stay behind." And he'd saved Jim's ass by coming out with them.

"Well, " Artie waved a hand airily. "I am feeling a little worse for wear, it is true. You can be a true friend Jim and help me to bed and a bottle of whiskey."

"I think I can do that," John murmured, hauling Campbell to his feet. "Don't bother talking."

"I'll just stay here a moment then while you see to this piece of refuse," Artie replied and leaned backwards to rest a little.

He on the other hand practically dragged Campbell into Canadian custody, much to the appreciation of the Colonel.

"Well done Captain," he said. "Where is your compatriot? Not injured I hope."

"Back in the tree line. I'm going to retrieve him, and then we'd like to return to the fort with you." It was as close to friendly territory as they could find until they went south again.

"Of course. It might take some time to root out the extent of this plot and you need protection in the mean time," the Colonel said briskly. "I cannot be seen to let anything untoward happen. I assume you can both ride back?"

"We can ride." If he had to sling Artie over his horse like a saddle bag, he could ride. Nevermind that Cinnamon was probably in better shape than Artie was, just then, for the ride back. He shoved Campbell forward, gladly to the Colonel's men. "Watch him. He'd run for it in a heartbeat, and he tried to kill a government agent already."

"Then we will be moving out shortly. You may proceed at your own pace," he said nodding briskly. "And if he wants to run then he will save me the problems of a trial or a telegram to get an execution order."

Jim snorted and nodded, turning back towards where he'd left Artemus. That would have to do. The colonel was certainly a man after his own heart in that aspect, Jim decided. Still, he hadn't been able to shoot the man in the back.

He was a little concerned to find Artemus apparently asleep there. That wasn't good, and Jim shook his head. It might come down to slinging him over his horse at that. The damn fool was ill after all.

He jostled him gently to his feet, and pulled one arm over his shoulder. It looked like Cinnamon was going to have to ride beside him after all.

* * *

Artie could put on a show even while sick. Hell, he'd once done a run of Coriolanus with a chest infection and got through it with liberal amounts of drink and potent balsams and still received rave reviews. By the time he was back at the Fort he was sure he was definitely ill, chilled to the bone but with a fever and everything aching painfully. He'd managed to prevail upon the goodwill of the soldiers and the Colonel and got well and truly dunked in a hot water bath in a relatively small tub which had helped some. Now though, he was in warm dry clothes and lying in bed, feeling a little woozy and sorry for himself.

It was damn strange to feel, and more strange to see Jim settle into a chair beside the bed. "Hi. Are you awake, Artie?"

"Just because I snored in the face of the Colonel when he visited doesn't mean I intend to make a habit of it," Artie said reaching for the generous shot of whiskey he'd poured a little shakily.

"I thought I'd ask in case you were sleep drinking. Do you want to try water?" Jim leaned forward with a glass as well and that was tricky. A shot and a glass.

"I'm working on sweating alcohol out through my pores," Artie said flippantly. "I thought you'd be celebrating with the troops here."

Jim gave a simple shrug of his shoulders, and no real expectation that he was going to tell Artemus any more. "Since your cover's been blown, I thought you'd need someone to make sure you got safely back over the border."

"And you are escorting me from the side of my bed." Artie smiled a little. "Well, a handsome captain at my bedside, I suppose this hasn't been a complete disaster." His thoughts poked at him to watch his words but he didn't seem to care just then.

Jim snorted, and sat back a little, looking comfortable. "I don't think Campbell will say anything about that. Given his circumstances."

"The way we heroically rode to the rescue?" Artie smiled a little more, comfortably warm if not a little flushed now. "Well, now you know I only followed so I could watch the way to ride a horse..." He should know better -- some people were mean drunks, or depressed drunks. He was a flirty drunk if he ever did get properly intoxicated.

And he was tired, and stretched thin, and drifting on ill. "Somehow I doubt that. But, we did ride heroically to the rescue."

"A toast to the galloping heroes," he said raising his glass and taking another drink. "Although you spoiled my revenge, James, I am most put out with you about that."

"You would've regretted it. It never feels as good as it seems like it might." No, Artemus was willing to take that challenge on. He was a good sight sure that he would've enjoyed shooting one of his balls off.

"Oh, I think I would have risked the disappointment. I can't stand a selfish lover," he said with a dismissive gesture. "Male or female." He looked at Jim appraisingly. "If your reputation is accurate you wouldn't know what I am talking about."

"I have a reputation?" Jim cocked an eyebrow at him, as if feigning innocence. He didn't answer the question or the implication, either.

"Oh please," Artie couldn't seem to stop himself. "Women talk. They were lining up for you last mission we had together. And coming back for seconds where they could...that's the test. Anyone can get a girl once, but more than once? Mmm, I heard some very interesting tales of your prowess James."  
Which led to some of his favorite lurid fantasies.

He lifted his eyebrows at Artemus. "I don't mind good companionship, though I'm not sure what you've heard. Nothing wrong with a pretty girl." Or two.

"Well no, but...sometimes other alternatives have more interest," he said unabashedly looking him over. He couldn't help himself. Jim was a fine figure of a man, and the thought of the muscles he had seen all too frequently under his hands was mesmerizing.

Jim exhaled a little, eyeing Artemus. "But that's dangerous, Artie."

"More or less dangerous than being chained up, attached to a rock and tossed into a freezing cold river," he asked rhetorically. "If you hadn't noticed, danger can be more than a little addictive."

"More likely to take away a man's chances of doing the addictive sorts of danger," Jim offered. 

"You'd think so wouldn't you? But it seems that it has its own uses for good old Uncle Sam. " He said a little bitterly. "Mmm, he can conveniently look away."

"You still deserve better than that, Artie." Jim leaned his book on his knee, looking for all the world like he wasn't going anywhere. 

He tried to reach for a flippant smile, but it felt randomly difficult. "Do I?" he asked making a sharp gesture at himself. "Really? I'm probably everything you've been taught to avoid.. "

Why did he say that? Jim hadn't been implying anything.

"My step-father warned me about actors. And soldiers. And riding horses. And good whiskey. And if he'd had half a thought to, he would've probably warned me about working with people." Jim reached to pour himself a drink. "I never listened to him."

"Well, good news then.." He exhaled and closed his aching eyes for a moment. Jim was straight, he knew he was straight but not revolted. "He would hate me then. But then I'm not the type you should be taking home to meet your family."

"That's all right. I'm not really welcome back home myself." It was enough to nearly get him to laugh, and that felt good, despite that his whole body hurt.

He chuckled and then groaned. "I must be getting old Jim. Everything hurts."

"Or you've had a long day and need to rest for a couple before we ride back to the states. I won't go anywhere." Which was more than Artie had any right to ask for.

"Why?" he blurted out without thinking. "Why not?"

"Because you're my friend, Artie." Easy, flippant, like it didn't matter at all. Maybe he was making it harder than it needed to be.

"A rare thing," he said exhaling and coughing a little. "I'll always have your back Jim," he said seriously.

"I trust you on that. So, since you're awake, do you want me to read to you until you pass out again?" That sounded nice. Tolerable, even Not romantic and not as good as getting Jim in his bed, but he didn't know if he even could do anything to make it worthwhile just then.

"You know I'd think I'd like that," Artemus answered, lying back. "I think I'd like that a lot."

He could close his eyes and listen while Jim read whatever war story he'd found.

"Candide, thus driven out of this terrestrial paradise, rambled a long time without knowing where he went..."


End file.
